The Secret Life of the Malfoys
by Lekta
Summary: The Kingdom of Slytherin to the outside eye is a beautiful and timeless place, much like their rulers, the Malfoys. Harry Potter was just an ordinary soldier when he was called to the palace by the king himself. R
1. A Prude in a Nudist Colony

_Author's Notes: I have three other stories I'm supposed to be writing but this hit me during a particularily vengeful Harry Potter faze, it transcended into a frightening Kings obsession. This was born. This will not follow Kings exactly and is an alternate universe for Harry Potter. _

_Summary: The Kingdom of Slytherin is a beautiful and timeless place but there are secrets hidden behind her walls, much like the Royal Family themselves. Harry Potter was just an ordinary soldier when he did the unthinkable and saved the king's son and defeated Lord Voldemort. As a reward, he is invited to the palace but not everything is all it appears to be and Harry finds himself swept up into a circle of lies, romance and mutiny. _

_WARNING! This story contains SLASH! Do not like? Then do not read._

_Disclaimer: If I owned Kings, it would have never been cancelled. If I owned HP, Draco and Harry would be out of the closet by now. (TRANSLATION: I don't own Kings or Harry Potter)_

Chapter 1

The cloying scent of roses is in the air as Harry Potter- defeater of Voldemort- stepped out of the nondescript government car and stared in wonder at Malfoy Palace. It was breathtaking, made of polished marble and stone, glittering and reflecting the bright sun. It looked like heaven, an image of absolute beauty and perfection that it only fit to call it unattainable.

That's what it was to most people. They wouldn't even step foot inside the castle, never see anything beyond the iron gates yet still they were fascinated by it. They flocked outside, stopping to stare at the pearly columns and even reverently stopped for a few minutes as they passed by it. They all hoped, dreamed, prayed to be admitted into the hallowed ground but they never would, still they would hope.

Harry had been one of those people. A common soldier from a too-large family deciding to finally do something with his life. He had shown prowess and skill during training and rose through the ranks, finally settling on Captain. But he had never dreamed that he would be commemorated for saving the king's son. Even if it was just stopping a plot on the prince's life. He expected to see a glimpse of the king and queen on the television, or at a memorial service where he would award Charlie (his adopted brother) or someone else with a purple heart for bravery.

"Alright there?" Mr. Gimms said, coming around in his impeccable suit and staring at Harry through his own glasses lens. He had been assigned as Harry's chauffeur and Harry suspected, his job was to make sure Harry didn't do anything too embarrassing. Harry nodded sharply and Gimms gave him a little smile before leading him up the the marble steps and up to the oak doors.

"No need to worry. You're a hero, Mr. Potter." Gimms continued

conversationally.

The door was opened and they were admitted by a butler in a tailcoat. The foyer was across between a manor home and a museum. There was a mural with the names of war veterans etched in gold. Portraits of state figures and past kings and ministers n glistening gold frames giving the appearance of saints. The floor was of course marble but Harry was surprised to find a deep green carpet stretching up both staircases and to the front door. Silver and green appeared to be the favoured colours much like the flag of the Slytherin Kingdom.

Gimms hand on his forearm brought Harry back to the present.

"I'll leave you here, someone will be with you in a moment. Don't look so worried, you're a hero." Gimms said, kindly seeing Harry's stricken expression. Harry gave him a wobbly smile that dropped as soon as the older man was out of sight. He kept his hands in the pockets of his uniform; dark green with silver lining and a snake pendant, as he wandered about. He couldn't help but want to explore; he was in the mouth of the lion, the den of the beast; a forbidden place that everyone coveted to enter.

A gilded mirror rested on a silver table against the staircase, he could make out faces and names, recognising some and clueless about the others. He reached out a finger to trace the words at the top of the mirror: Toujours pur. Always pure.

"It's a family heirloom," a voice said from above. Harry snapped his hand back as if burned, blushing as he looked up at the staircase.

The voice belonged to a girl with brown hair pulled back a headband walked down the stairs and over to her Harry. She looked well-dressed in brown trousers and a blue blouse that brought out the colour in the large brown eyes. Her face was familiar and harry dropped into a frenzied bow, "Princess!"

"I prefer Nat, sounds less formal." She said once he straightened up.

"I'm sorry-"

"For what? Touching the mirror? It's only here so the people can admire it. That's the point of this entire area, it's all about image." Nat swept her hand to gesture to the busts and statues that Harry had missed on his first glance.

"I'm-" He said trying to introduce himself. She held up a hand to stop him, "I know who you are. Everyone knows who you are. You defeated Voldemort, that makes you a hero. You're the Boy Who Lived."

Harry looked at her started, "What?"

"That's what the Prophet and the rest of the newspapers are calling you: Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived." Nat continued. Harry's eyes widened.

The sound of heels against marble announced another presence and interrupted Nat's next words. A taller woman came over to them with warm hazel eyes and a black book held tightly in her right hand.

"Harry, may I call you, Harry? I'm Hermione Granger, I've been charged with preparing you for tonight." The woman said, holding out a delicate hand. Harry shook it warmly, letting out the breath that he had been holding. Hermione was not what Harry expected in a counsellor of the king. Her face still had the fullness of youth but she made a mature figure in a demure grey dress and a string of pearls around her neck. Her hair was held back in a clip but tendrils were escaping free.

"Nat, don't you have an appointment you should be getting to?" Hermione gently reminded the girl. Nat gave a half-smile and nodded, "I'll leave Harry in your capable hands then. Goodbye." She then turned and walked down the hallway, disappearing around the corner.

"Shall we then?" Hermione gestured and Harry followed her up the stairs. They passed by men and woman dressed in suits and walking into what Harry recognised as the Court Room but Hermione steered him in the other direction before he could get caught for gawking.

"Before the party, at four today, King Lucius will hold a press conference where he will present you with your medal of bravery. There will be a photo op, try to keep all talking to a minimum, I doubt you're accustomed to dealing with the press. After that, there will be a party in your honour." Hermione told him as they walked quickly.

"A party?" Harry gasped.

"Of course, the King and the press love a party. Good will and all that, no need to worry, just remember your manners. Oh, and bowing, bow to the king once, that's all you need. Shake the queen's hand and the prince's....not too formal. Titles are only required for the king and queen, Draco is exempt though still be polite. He will be king one day and it would a shame to make an enemy of him...Oh, here we are!" Hermione chattered, pushing open a white door and gesturing Harry in.

The room was a study, that much Harry could see. There was a embroidered red couch with a matching armchair and ottoman. The study was lit by huge bay windows that lead out onto a balcony. An entire wall was covered in books, volumes that looked over a hundred years old and kept in good condition. Draped over the couch, legs crossed was the prince himself.

Harry had seen the prince on television, he had seen pictures but nothing compared to seeing the prince in the flesh. He looked to be made of alabaster, milky skin and pale blonde hair that curved gently around his face, highlighting his sharp features. His nose was perpetually stuck up and his grey eyes were calculating as he appraised Harry, stripping him down to the skin and making the young captain feel like a bug under a microscope. His black shirt, collar open to reveal a slender neck, and matching pants did little to conceal the emaciated frame. Draco was thinner with sharper features than his image on television.

"Is that what you're wearing?" Draco asked with barely concealed contempt. Despite the tone, Harry felt like he had passed some test and he relaxed a bit.

"For the press conference, his uniform is appropriate." Hermione answered, playing with her Blackberry.

"Do you have any other clothes?" The prince asked, standing up.

"I didn't have time to grab anything," Harry said sheepishly. Draco lifted one eyebrow, "well, we can't have that, and you won't fit into anything of mine." Draco tapped his chin with one finger, eyes focussed on Harry's, unnerving him.

"I'll send Theo to measure you." The prince said finally. Harry's eyebrows furrowed in confusion, "who's Theo?"

"My tailor," Draco said looking at Harry like he was an idiot.

"You have a tailor?" Harry couldn't keep the surprise out of his voice.

"Of course," Draco rolled his eyes.

"I have something else to deal with, I trust you'll take care of our hero, Draco?" Hermione said, placing a microphone in her ear, clipping it onto the lapel of her sweater.

"I'll take good care of Harry," Draco promised with his half-smirk, half-smile. Hermione gave him a warning glare and then left leaving the two young men alone.

Harry put his hands in his pockets, looking down at his feet. He couldn't help it, an oppressive silence had taken over the room and Harry could feel himself becoming more nervous the longer it was sustained. He felt out of place, a commoner stepping foot into the royal family's home. Like Anne Boleyn first meeting King Henry the Eighth, or a prude accidentally joining a nudist convention. The one puzzle piece that didn't fit. Though Draco wasn't helping anything. He kept staring at Harry, keeping his eyes fixated on the squirming boy in front of him.

Harry looked like a good old country boy. His hair was messy, Draco doubted he had even run a brush through it or if it would even do any good. His skin was tanned, a healthy golden tone that spoke of years in the sunshine outside. His eyes were a bright, vibrant green that drew in everyone's attention. He had a magnetic presence, an aura about him that drew Draco's attention and kept it no matter how hard he tried to look away. He looked like the lamb being led to the slaughter and Draco couldn't help but smile; it was adorable.

"You can sit down you know," Draco finally spoke up, startling Harry. His green eyes blinked in confusion before the request registered and he sat down in the armchair.

"That's an interesting scar," Draco said. Harry's hand immediately rushed to touch the thin scar on his forehead.

"I've had it since I was a baby." Harry told him. Draco peered at it, "did you know it looks like a lightning bolt?"

"Yeah, it's strange." Harry said embarrassed.

"They're calling you the hero of the people, you saved the kingdom and I as hear it, you also saved my life." Draco crossed his legs.

"It's my duty, I swore an oath to king and country. I'm just happy that the kidnapping was unsuccessful." Harry admitted quietly.

"I as well, you even get a party in your name. It's all publicity stunt, you'll wine, you'll dine, take pictures with the king as thanks and then you'll be sent back to the frontline and on your merry way. That's the reward for being a hero. Well, that and a medal." Draco explained with a rueful smile.

"I'm just not used to all this ceremony," Harry said, rubbing his forehead. Draco patted his knee sharply, "no need to worry. One night and then you can go back to living in squalor."

"It's not squalor!" Harry exclaimed. Draco raised an eyebrow, "alright, whatever you want to call it. Though I don't know how you live without a personal tailor."

There was knock and the door before it opened and a handsome black boy strode in. His entire appearance shouted privilege and money. He came over to the couch and Harry knew that this young man was a great deal taller than him.

"There you are, been looking everywhere for you." He said to Draco, sitting on the edge of the couch. His eyes finally landed on Harry and they widened a fraction further as he smiled.

"is this him then, the hero?" He asked Draco.

"Please don't call me that," Harry groaned. Two heads stared at him and he shifted uncomfortably in his seat under their unwavering gazes.

"Lesser people than you would at least be excited at the prospect of being a national hero and getting to see the inner-workings of the palace." The black man pointed out, pouring himself a drink from the tray in front of him.

"I just meant...that all this fame is about uncomfortable. I didn't really do much, the war still isn't over." Harry stammered out, growing more and more uncomfortable.

"Didn't do much?" The black man echoed, "you defeated the Dark Lord, someone who has threatened the royal family for almost twenty-five years. Modesty doesn't suit you, Mr. Potter."

"You know my name but I have yet to know yours." Harry said in annoyance.

"Did that only occur to you this minute?" Draco raised an eyebrow, "Harry Potter, meet Lord Blaise Zabini. He's staying here for the summer while his mother's on tour."

Harry's eyes widened....Zabini?

Blaise nodded, obviously guessing Harry's thoughts. "Yes, my mother is Gabriella Zabini, famous opera singer."

Who hadn't heard of the Zabinis. Gabriella had been a young star on the rise when she married Lord Malcolm Zabini, heir to the Zabini fortune and worth as much as the king. Their wedding had been the most talked of affair, the Zabinis and the Malfoys had been friends and the king and queen had attended the wedding. Then Malcolm was killed in a plane crash, leaving his entire fortune to his wife and naming his young son as his heir. Since then Gabriella had been married eleven times and each one had been killed in some tragic way. She was infamous for her marriages as well as her many indiscretions. It appeared her son had inherited her movie star good looks as well as her arrogance.

"Close your mouth, Harry, or flies will get in." Draco said lightly. Harry snapped his mouth shut, cheeks burning in embarrassment.

"He has potential but he isn't wearing that tonight, is he?" Blaise asked Draco. The prince shook his head, "god, no, I'll have Theo find him something appropriate."

"Well, we should probably go with him. Theo may not be able to handle him on his own." Blaise grinned over the rim of his glass. Draco nodded, "splendid idea, Blaise." They both turned to look at Harry with identical smiles on their faces. Harry squirmed uncomfortably; he didn't like that look in their eyes.

---

"Has he arrived then?" Lucius Malfoy asked, keeping his tone light as he sat behind his desk in his study. The king was dressed in a three-button suit with a dark green tie. With his white hair that cascaded down his back and his silver eyes, he looked completely at ease in his study. It had been decorated with prestige in mind. There was a marble fireplace to match the marble floor and columns. The paintings were of his family members: a portrait of the three of them hung over the fireplace, while Walburga and Cygnus Black, his in-laws glared at him from the right. His father looked down at him from his left while the Malfoy crest hung proudly behind him.

Severus Snape had been serving the Malfoys for years. He was their primary physician, confidante and advisor. He was not handsome: his nose was bent oddly and too big for his face and his hair was greasy, looking out of place in his rich clothing. Severus and Lucius had become friends at school which was a surprise in itself, since Lucius had been quite popular and Severus the school geek. While Lucius had been from a powerful family, earning the title of Lord, Severus had been from a middle-class family yet the two boys had become friends and then eventually colleagues. He was Lucius' most trusted and faithful employee.

"The Potter boy has already been briefed on the proceedings." Severus nodded, standing in front of the desk. Lucius nodded, "what is he doing now? I don't want him wandering about the castle."

"Shopping." Severus couldn't keep the smirk out of his voice.

"Shopping?" Lucius echoed in disbelief.

"Draco's idea," Severus continued. Lucius would have rolled his eyes, a nasty habit he had if not for the memory of his father beating the habit out of him, instead, he steepled his fingers, leaning his head against them.

"This Potter," Lucius practically spat the word out. "Did he really do it? Did he really defeat the Dark Lord?"

"It appears so, the camp was completely destroyed though the army are still fighting the remaining forces, even without their leader they refuse to give up. Though the body is still missing, still they all swear that he killed the Dark Lord. He has become the hero of the people." Severus reported.

"He's dangerous." Lucius said. "If the people love him too much-"

"He is a threat but one that can be easily managed." Severus reassured. Lucius stared into the flickering flames as if their depths held all the answers.

"Then I suppose we will just have to keep a close eye on him." Lucius said, though his cold eyes never left the fire.


	2. Blending In

Author's Notes: Chapter Two has been complete for the world but I just didn't have time to upload this. Here it is though, for your reading pleasure. Again, there is an OC in this. She's basically a Michell-like character and there is a story involving her and Harry but it isn't romantic. Also, Draco might be a little OOC. I'm sorry, just tell me where and I'll keep an eye on it in the future.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Kings or Harry Potter. Though this idea is mine.

Chapter 2

A line of royal guards, dressed in their military uniform lined the hallway and the excited chatter of thousands of people leaked through the closed doors. Excitement was in the air, it was infectious. Everyone was talking about Harry Potter and the speech that the king would make in just a few short minutes. The royal family looked poised and perfect waiting though there was no sign of the king nor his advisor. Draco resisted the urge to lean against the columns: his father enjoyed making people wait and making an entrance. Harry looked just as uncomfortable as he felt, playing with the buttons on his jacket and shifting from one foot to the other. Nat, as usual was watching everything, she could have been a living statue were it not for the subtle shift in her body every few minutes, probably to keep it from falling asleep.

"He's on his way," Narcissa said in her quiet tone to everyone gathered. She looked beautiful in a gold dress and black cardigan. Her blonde curls had been pinned back in a sophisticated up-do. She could have been a model in a magazine if not for her eyes, which were black as night and devoid of any warmth. Everyone straightened up at once, hearing the click of the king's walking stick against the ground as he came down the hallway, Severus as always, behind him.

"Lucius, the black suit again?" Narcissa tutted though there was a slight smile on her face.

"I felt it was appropriate for the occasion." He answered as Hermione hurried to clip a microphone onto his jacket. She pulled out a lint brush, carefully brushing off his shoulders. It was her job, as a Public Relations Agent and Assistant to make sure the entire family and anyone representing the family never looked less than perfect.

"I have your speech, sir." She said, holding out a handful of papers. Lucius waved it away, "I've written my own."

"Sir, you didn't tell me about writing your own speech." Hermione stammered, momentarily shocked.

"Ms. Granger, I believe I can handle one press conference. Now, let's not keep the people waiting any longer. Draco, straighten up. Mr. Potter, if you'll follow me." Lucius smiled as he stepped through the lines of guards and onto the balcony. Everyone else followed dutifully behind, Narcissa reassuring Hermione that everything would be fine. The girl tended to panic when things weren't planned ahead. Spontaneity made her nervous.

The crowd was deafening as Lucius stepped up to the podium, Narcissa, Draco and Nat on his left side while Harry, Hermione and Severus stood on his right. The king held up a hand for silence and the people obediently hushed though lights flashed, capturing pictures of the king.

"Today is a day of reckoning. A day that will never be forgotten. We are finally free, for too long Lord Voldemort has oppressed and stalked this kingdom, destroying the lives of the people. We have sacrificed time, money and our very lives to try to keep him at bay. To save not only ourselves but our children from his evil clutches." Lucius paused, looking at his own family. His hands gripped the wood tightly.

"But no more, the war is nearly over. It is at an end; we will find the remaining Death Eaters and try them for treason and the deaths of innocents. Lord Voldemort is dead, and it was by one of our own. A humble young man who stood up and fought back, dealing the final blow. His name will go down in history, an ordinary man defeating the Dark Lord himself. I want to give Captain Harry Potter, the purple medallion for bravery in the face of adversity. Harry, if you would step forward." Lucius turned to the young man and Hermione gave him a gentle push forward.

On wobbly legs with his heart in his throat, Harry walked up to the king. Lucius pinned the medal to Harry's jackets and placed his hands on his shoulders.

"Thank you for saving not only my kingdom but also my son," Lucius said and he embraced Harry. A thousand photos were snapped as the crowd and the press watched as their king hugged their hero. Lucius stepped back to the podium as Harry stood in shock, as if he couldn't believe what had just happened.

"Now, I'm sure you all have things to get back to, parties and celebrations. But try to remember not only how many lives have been lost to this war but also, how many lives have been saved. It's finally over. The new day has come and we can look to it without fear but with hope." Lucius concluded. There was thundering applause as he stepped down and shook hands with Harry.

Harry was caught up in the whirlwind as a million questions were shouted at him and nearly blind from the flashes from all the cameras. The day felt like it was dragging on; he felt haggard but everyone around him looked at ease in the hustle as if they had done this many times before. He could've hugged Hermione when she announced that the conference was over and that they could rest for a couple of hours before dinner. Harry had been shown to a room where he could get changed and freshen up in.

It was a guest room, nothing special to any of the palace's residents but to Harry it was the three times the size of his room at The Burrow. He had a large queen-sized bed that felt like sleeping on a cloud when he laid down on it. The bed was covered with a maroon comforter and fluffy pillows. It had an adjacent bathroom where Harry took his shower in and a flat screen television on the wall. Surprisingly enough, there was a grand piano that was polished but when Harry's fingers touched the keys he could tell that it hadn't been played in years. His suit had been delivered and was hanging up in the closet waiting for him.

There was a knock on the door and Harry stood up.

"Come in!" He called. The door opened and Hermione walked in, chatting on her handheld device. She hung up as soon as she saw Harry though.

"Not dressed yet?" She asked, clicking her tongue disapprovingly. Harry shrugged sheepishly, "I lost track of time."

"Well that's why I'm here, have you showered yet?" Hermione asked. Harry nodded.

"Well, at least you did that much," Hermione grabbed his suit from the closet and laid it onto the bed. She pulled out his shirt, already pressed and put it beside the tuxedo.

"Put the shirt on, then the pants...we'll see which tie looks better once you've got those on." Hermione ordered.

"I can't get changed with you here," Harry said incredulously.

"Oh, for heaven's sake-fine, I'll be waiting outside. Tell me when you're done." Hermione said in exasperation, leaving the room with a shake of her head. The hero of Slytherin was shy. Best to keep that out of the press, though it was better than him being an exhibitionist.

Harry did as he was told and he opened the door to show Hermione when he was done. Her eyes grew large as she stared at him. He looked handsome in a black tuxedo and a deep red shirt with a gold tie. His hair for once wasn't looking like he had just rolled out of bed but like he had just run his fingers through it. It made him look just put-together enough not to stand out but laid-back enough to appear confident.

"Well?" Harry asked after minutes of her silent gaping. "Is it alright?"

"It's brilliant," Hermione finally said. "Draco has good taste." Harry smiled and gave her a hug, "thanks, Hermione."

"You're welcome," she smiled, hugging him back. "But we should get going, the party doesn't start for another hour but there's another photo op beforehand."

"Another one?" Harry groaned. He hated being photographed.

"I know, it's tedious but it's good for the king's image." Hermione patted his shoulder.

She lead him into another room with chairs and couches. Harry assumed it must be the den; Narcissa was already there outfitted in a two-toned purple dress. The neckline was modest though it did showcase her graceful neck. The back was completely open but not scandalously. Her hair was draped over one shoulder with a silver pin and she had matching diamond earrings. Nat had chosen a floral print dress that was held together by a thick black belt. She left her hair down and was wearing topaz earrings.

The king was dressed entirely in black much like the suit he had worn earlier in the day, though his tie was silver instead of dark green. Still, he made an imposing presence with his diamond walking stick and tailored outfit. They all looked up as Harry and Hermione entered but didn't say anything. There was one person missing.

"Where's Draco?" Hermione voiced his thoughts. Narcissa frowned, "he hasn't arrived yet. Will you go see what's keeping him? It doesn't do for the royal family to arrive late to their own banquet."

"Of course, I'll get Blaise on it." Hermione nodded, backing out of the room and leaving Harry on his own again.

"Had enough of public life yet?" Nat teased as soon as he sat beside her. Harry smiled, "yeah, it's a lot of work just be perfect all the time."

"Though you appear to be fitting in," she said.

"It's all an act," Harry whispered causing her to giggle. The door opened and Draco and Blaise nearly ran in but straightened at the last moment. Draco was flushed and Blaise had his usual smirk on his face but they sobered upon seeing Lucius' glare.

"You're late, really Draco, is that what you want to show the people when you're king? That you can't be bothered to show up on time," Narcissa chided her son. Draco bit back the retort about his father was always late that was on his tongue.

"I'm sorry, mother. It took me longer to get ready than I expected." Draco said, the words rolling out of his mouth as if he had heard this speech before.

"See that it doesn't happen again," she said and Draco nodded.

"What were you doing?" Lucius asked, staring at his son intently with some unidentifiable emotion in his eyes.

"I was getting ready, I apologise for keeping you, Father." Draco said quietly, breaking eye contact. Lucius said nothing just swept out of the room with Narcissa following.

"What's the real reason?" Nat asked, standing up herself. Blaise let a smile break out onto his face, "Draco was having a clothing meltdown."

"I was not!" Draco shot back. Blaise grinned, "whatever you say. Shall we, Lady Natasha?" He said turning to Nat and offering her his arm. She hit him in the shoulder with a roll of her eyes but took hold of the appendage anyway. She turned to her cousin and said, "are you coming, Draco?"

"In a minute," he replied back.

"We'll be sure to save you some wine; god knows we'll need it." Blaise muttered, escorting Nat out of the room. Draco's gaze was again focussed entirely on Harry, making the dark-haired boy nervous and he ran his fingers through his hair. Draco reached and placed his hands on Harry's chest. Harry could feel his heart hammering in his ears as Draco leaned closer.

"Your tie is crooked; didn't anyone ever teach you how to tie one properly?" The prince said softly. Nimble fingers pulled off his tie and redid the knot lingering a few seconds longer. Draco smiled, "well, let's get this over with, so you can get your fifteen minutes of fame and my father his photo op."

"Yeah," Harry said hoarsely, following Draco out of the room.

More photos were taken and Harry was barely aware of someone shoving a wine glass into his hand. He just drank it, already feeling a little better. He was introduced to thousands of people, important figures to the kingdom and some of the press. Hermione helped him steer clear of anyone too annoying, though and said that the excitement would die down around dinner. He spotted Draco chatting up a pretty dark-haired girl in a forest green dress. Blaise always at his side with two girls of his own. Nat seemed to disappear in the crowd; Narcissa had been parading her after what Harry could only think of as 'suitors.' The Queen was playing matchmaker.

A hand wrapped around his bicep, startling Harry so that he almost spilled his drink.

"I'm sorry," Nat said. Harry shook his head, "it's alright. Did you need something?"

"Fresh air, let's go out onto the terrace." Nat said. Harry agreed and they walked out onto the porch, fresh night air hitting them in the face and playing with the ends of their clothes and hair.

The gardens were the pride and joy of the palace. The grass was fresh green and manicured, the rose bushes carried their enchanting scent wherever they were. The fountain was lit up with hundreds of white lights looking like fairies had touched down on the earth. The gentle trickling of water soothed the ache in Harry's head and shoulders from standing for hours. The gardens boasted lilies, tulips, bluebells and every type of flower and tree. There were stone benches and steps with vines crawling up the sides. Harry had never seen such a beautiful sight in his life.

"I love coming out here, it's a nice escape." Nat said, leaning against the railing.

"It's beautiful," Harry agreed.

"I've wanted to meet you my entire life, Harry." Nat admitted. Harry looked at her sharply, "what are you talking about?"

"I'm sorry, I don't mean to-" Nat stopped and reached into her purse and pulling out a piece of paper. "This will help explain."

"Nat, I'm flattered but-" Harry held up his hands as if keeping her away. Nat handed the paper to Harry wordlessly, it was the pleading but hopeful expression in her brown eyes that caused Harry to accept the letter and open it.

He just hoped it wasn't another love letter. He had enough of those.

Harry was surprised to find his name scrawled in long, cramped writing as if the person had written it in a hurry. He ripped open the letter and unfolded it, feeling his heart twinge painfully as he recognised the writing.

_Dear Harry,_

_I'm afraid I don't have enough time to go into everything I want to say to you. I'm not even sure you'll remember me; you were about five when I last saw you. I hope all is well and that the Weasleys are treating you right. I have no doubt that they are. Here's to your good health. I wanted to give this letter to you myself, wanted to be able to see you for one last time but I'm afraid that just isn't possible._

_Instead I hope that Nat finds you and gives this to you. I'm sorry, Harry but I'm sure you've read the papers. They're calling me a murderer, said I killed your parents and Peter Pettigrew, the rat. But I swear that I didn't, Harry. Peter betrayed your parents, he led Voldemort to them and he murdered them in cold blood. I thank God every night that you were at the Weasleys that night or I don't know what would have happened to you._

_I'm going into hiding, I'm trying to clear my name and stop Peter and Voldemort. Your dad would have been so proud of you; I know you're still young but I know you'll do great things. I'm so proud of you, Harry. Just know that I'm sorry I couldn't be there to watch you grow up. I love you so much, Harry. Stay safe and I hope that one day I'll be able to say that face to face._

_Your godfather, _

_Sirius Black_

_P.S. Look after Nat. Please._

"He really wanted to give it to you himself but he went into exile and then hiding." Nat stammered, twisting her fingers together. "He thought you wouldn't remember him, he just wanted to let you know that you still had someone out there."

"Sirius, how could I forget?" Harry said, tracing his fingers over the letters of his godfather's name.

"I'm sorry." Nat said softly.

Harry's head snapped up, "sorry? For what?"

"I didn't find you sooner, I didn't even realise it was you until that day in the palace. You look just like James, it's remarkable." Nat shook her head.

"How long has he been gone?" Harry asked, tucking the letter away.

"Seven years," Nat admitted, looking down. "I used to get letters from him but there hasn't been any lately. Plus Narcissa screens all the mail that comes to the Royal Family, for all I know he's been sending letters and she's been throwing them out."

"I'm sorry."

"I'm not asking for anything, Harry." Nat shook her head, "I just wanted to give you that letter. You don't need to apologise."

Harry stepped closer and wrapped his arms around her. Nat stood rigid for a second before her arms encircled his waist and she rested her head on his chest.

"You don't have to do this," Nat muttered into his jacket.

"I want to thank you for the letter and we're family. Our parents were best friends," Harry said, "so why can't we be?"

"Because we don't know each other," Nat pointed out.

"So, we'll get to know each other. It's not that hard, I'm Harry and I live with the Weasleys. My best friend's name is Ron, I like chess though I'm not very good and quidditch. What about you?"

"I don't know," Nat shook her head with a laugh. "I like to read, my best friend is a girl called Hannah Abbot, her dad's one of the palace security guards. I also like helping out at the hospital and I intern there as a Healer."

"You're a healer?" Harry said impressed.

"I was born with the gift; apparently my mother had it as well. She was a nurse." Nat nodded, finally releasing Harry.

"See? We know each other already." Harry smiled.

"You're a bit peculiar," Nat shook her head with a grin.

Harry was saved from responding by a chorus of screams coming from inside. Harry and Nat both turned to the French doors and opened them into chaos. People were screaming and running for the nearest exit while four guards tried to escort Narcissa and the rest of the Royal Family. Harry grabbed Nat as they stepped inside.

"Nat!" They turned at the sound of Blaise's shout. "Where have you been?"

"What's going on?" Harry asked as the handsome young man ran up to them.

"Someone let a poisonous snake loose in the middle of the banquet." He said.

"Where's Draco?" Nat asked.

"I don't know but they're evacuating the Royal Family. The king and queen are waiting for you." Blaise shook his head, "we need to go, come on." He grabbed Nat's hand and pulled her towards the guards.

"Harry?" Nat asked, worried as she fought against Blaise.

"I'll be fine; I'm going to find the prince. Go with Blaise." Harry said as he took off, pushing through the crowd. Nat reluctantly followed Blaise and was pushed towards the exit.

Harry had screamed himself hoarse calling out the prince's name. He ran around, trying to spot the aristocratic nose, or any glimpse of Draco but people kept pushing him in a panic and it was getting harder to keep upright. Finally he spotted it, the familiar shock of white-blonde hair on the ground, pressed against the table and along with that revelation came the large slithering body of the snake.

Its body was dark green with a white underbelly. Its body was as thick as Harry's torso and its head was nearly the size of his own. It's forked slid along its mouth as if licking its lips in satisfaction of the palpable fear on Draco's face. The prince's eyes were wide and Harry saw him trembling in fear. The snake slid along his body, wrapping itself around Draco's leg and curling closer to his bared neck.

_Ssstop!_ Harry shouted in his mind, the snake paused in its movements as if cocking its ears to listen more closely. Its tongue pressed against the bulging pulse point on Draco's neck in a painstakingly slow movement. The prince let out a little whimper as he sat frozen in fear.

_I sssaid ssstop!_

The snake's head swivelled to stare at Harry. _Did you ssspeak to me human?_

_I did. Leave him alone._

_You are a Parssseltongue. You have a rare gift indeed._

_Who sssent you?_

_The other one who ssspeaks to sssnakes. He sssaid that the young one mussst die._

_Leave him alone._

_Would you command me?_

_No. I don't like to give commandsss. _

_Then what will you give me if I leave, human?_

_Protection. Leave and you'll be sssafe._

_Sssafe...do you ssswear?_

_Yesss, I ssswear._

_Then I will desssisst._

_Thank you._

The snake inclined its head and then crawled up Harry's leg and body to wrap around his arm, licking the shell of his ear before resting on his shoulder. Harry pet the snake's head once then turned to the stares of the entire ballroom. He ignored them all and reached out a hand toward Draco who stared at it dumbstruck.

"Are you alright? He didn't hurt you, did he?" He asked, unsure. Draco shook his head slowly and pulled himself to his shaky feet, staying away from the snake still on Harry's shoulder.

"Harry, did you realise that you could talk to snakes?" Draco asked just as Lucius and Narcissa came over.

"Well, Mr. Potter, it seems you've saved my son's life for a second time. Are you aware that the founder of our country could also speak to snakes?" The king said his grey eyes probing Harry's green ones, making him squirm uncomfortably under their unyielding gaze.

"Yes, sire, I was." Harry nodded.

"Good," Lucius nodded. "Well a debt like that can only be repaid in full, and I owe you two. What would you like, Captain Potter, anything you wish?"

"Sir, the only thing I ask is that I'm able to keep the snake. He was only following orders." Harry said.

"Whose orders, Potter?" A greasy-haired man dressed entirely in black asked.

"I'm not sure, but it has to be another Parseltongue." Harry said. The king nodded, "it is done, Captain Potter. You may keep the snake as my thanks. Ms. Granger will settle everything else, come Draco."

With that final thought, Lucius swept away flanked by his guards and family with Draco hurrying after them. Harry could feel the stares on his back as Hermione ushered him out of the ballroom and up the stairs. The whispers followed him all the way to his room.

So much for blending in.


End file.
